


The Gentleness That Comes

by doctormccoy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family Feelings, Commission fic, Feminist Steve Rogers, Fluffy Cuddle Sex, Implied Past Prostitution, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, Sex Tape, Steve Feels, Steve Rogers Angst, Steve Rogers vs the 21st Century, Steve Rogers: The Progressive Feminist No One Expected, implied past sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2623220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers never really views the things he had to do to get by before the War with any sort of shame or embarrassment. People ask him for his opinions on modern issues in interviews, but Steve has gotten good at talking around those types of questions. Fury insists that there's no way to answer them without casting a shadow of controversy across the reputation of the Avengers, and that's the last thing Steve wants.</p><p>But then a sex tape is released featuring Tony Stark in bed with another man, and Steve can't stay quiet any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gentleness That Comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheDisreputableDog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDisreputableDog/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [The Gentleness That Comes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7366312) by [kycydzf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kycydzf/pseuds/kycydzf)



> “We have not touched the stars,  
> nor are we forgiven,  
> which brings us back to the hero’s shoulders  
> and the gentleness that comes,  
> not from the absence of violence,  
> but despite the abundance of it.”  
> \- Richard Siken, "Crush"
> 
>  
> 
> ~*~
> 
> Please be aware that there are brief discussions and allusions to past instances of sexual abuse. Nothing is graphic or described but it is implied.  
>   
> Commission fic for the ever lovely enter21.

Steve Rogers never really views the things he had to do to get by before the War with any sort of shame or embarrassment.

No one nowadays understands how hard it was just to survive back then, especially for two orphaned boys trying to scrape by on their own. Steve is always too sick to do most jobs and the paper route he picks up doesn’t add much to their meager income. Bucky’s the one carrying the burden of their expenses, sometimes working two or even three jobs at a time to keep them fed and clothed. 

Sometimes you just had to do things that were less than proper if you didn’t want to starve to death in the middle of the Depression. 

Steve is surprised to find out that the 21st Century is even less accepting of this than the 20th ever was.

“Why is it that everyone that interviews me seems to assume I’m some ultra conservative, racist woman hater?” Steve asks Sam over a cup of coffee, sounding as utterly perplexed as he feels, “They are aware that my closest friends are you and Natasha, right? Even back during the War the Howling Commandos had a black man _and_ someone of Japanese descent, and God rest the soul of anyone who tried to tell Peggy Carter she was somehow less capable of performing her duties just because she was a woman.”

Sam gives him a sympathetic look and reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. He knows it’s hard for Steve to have to do these interviews and not be able to openly speak about how he really feels about the many issues they always question him on. He’s under the same gag order that the reputation of the Avengers cannot be smeared by a careless answer to a controversial question. In the wake of the Hydra scandal the Avengers are really the only good thing left to Shield’s name. Even Tony Stark of all people admits that it’s probably best they play things close to the chest for a while, until everything settles down with Shield and the government. 

It’s not so hard for most of them. No one really cares about Hawkeye’s opinions on abortion or Sam’s feelings on the goings on in Washington.

But _Captain America_ on the other hand is a different matter entirely.

Sam’s pretty sure Steve is still asked at least once a month whether he’s shocked to see a black man in the White House. It doesn’t help that he’s easily the most recognizable, and the most publicly celebrated, member of the Avengers. He’s supposed to represent America after all. 

“What was the topic today?” Sam asks with a sigh, leaning back in his seat to study the man sitting opposite him. Steve’s face is scrunching up in distaste, and there’s a curious muscle tic at the corner of his mouth that draws Sam’s attention. It’s rare to see Steve so worked up about something, unless that something is incredibly personal. Usually that means something to do with Bucky, or Hydra. 

Which is why he doesn’t really expect what Steve has to say next. 

“They asked me about my thoughts on the Cindy LaBelle case that’s been all over the television these past few weeks,” Steve grouses, and Sam struggles to keep his face impassive, watching the way Steve’s eyes darken as he stares at his coffee.

“She’s the prostitute that went to the police and filed rape charges against that doctor. Said he tried to pick her up and then beat her and raped her when she refused,” Sam replies, remembering seeing the story on the news that morning. He also remembers changing the channel in disgust when the news anchors start to discuss whether she should be filing theft charges against him, instead, and whether it’s even possible to rape a sex worker. 

“Yeah, her. They kept talking at me like they were expecting me to condemn her, or chastise her, for being raped, just because she’s a prostitute. What’s so wrong with the future that they can’t even grasp what consent is?”

Something flickers in Steve’s eyes then and Sam leans in a little, assessing. 

“I don’t know, man. I guess people just don’t understand what it’s like to be so desperate that you have to prostitute yourself. They think it’s a choice,” he says slowly, and Steve’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding together, and a quiet sort of comprehension dawns on Sam, settling heavy in his chest like a stone.

“It’s never a choice. People these days don’t get what it feels like to have to do whatever it takes to survive. Sometimes you have to do things, and make sacrifices, just to find your next meal. Who are they to judge her or anyone else if they can’t even comprehend what it feels like to sink that low?” Steve tells the table, refusing to make eye contact with Sam. 

“They don’t realize that they’re people too, just trying to get by whichever way they can.”

Sam sets his coffee down and licks his lips uncertainly, sitting up straight in his chair as he stares at the top of Steve’s head, silently willing him to look up. 

“Steve, did you ever-“

He’s cut off by Steve abruptly standing up, the chair screeching across the wooden floors as he pulls on his coat and scarf, bundling against the chill of New York City in January. 

“I need to go. Bucky’s expecting me home soon and we don’t want a repeat of the last time I came back late.”

Sam doesn’t even get a chance to say goodbye before Steve is sweeping out of the café, leaving him with more questions than answers.

\-------------------------

There’s something about entering the home he shares with Bucky that makes the stress melt off Steve. Maybe it’s because he never thought he would get a second chance to make one with the other man after the War started, or perhaps it’s the fact that he can so easily afford a nice place for them to live now, and provide for both of them.

There’s definitely something rewarding about getting to stride through the front door and see Bucky sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of leftover Chinese food, his attention focused on the iPad beside it while his metal fingers run absently through the ginger fur of Dum Dum, the three legged kitten Steve had picked out of a trash can in the alley beside their apartment building a few weeks ago, and who is currently sitting on Bucky’s lap.

“Hey, Buck. What’re you readin’?” Steve asks in a low voice, not wanting to startle the man who is clearly absorbed in whatever it is that’s on the iPad. Bucky looks up from it with a forkful of shrimp fried rice halfway to his mouth and blinks, cataloging Steve’s presence in the apartment before his eyes flit back down to the iPad.

“Not reading - _watching._ ”

He scoots his chair over so Steve can stand beside him and looks back down at the video playing on the iPad, resuming his eating with slow, even bites.

Bucky still isn’t the best at remembering to eat, and when he does it sometimes takes him hours to get through a single meal, but he’s getting better. Steve is just happy to see him eating under his own steam. 

He and Sam never manage to find Bucky. They can’t even catch up to him while he’s on his revenge tour against Hydra, and ultimately, it’s Bucky who comes to Steve, bloodied and clearly tired of fighting. 

Steve buys them their own apartment in Brooklyn, in a much better part of town than they could have ever afforded before the War, and they heal, together.

It takes time, and there are still days when Steve wakes up to an empty apartment and is terrified that Bucky isn’t coming back.

But he always, inevitably, finds his way home again, every single time he leaves.

Steve never comments on the knives he knows Bucky still keeps in his room and under his clothes. It’s not his job to dictate how Bucky heals, or what he needs to do to feel safe. Bucky came to him, trusting Steve not to smother him while he tries to figure out who he is. Steve isn’t about to violate that trust. 

He absently slides his fingers through the shower damp curls of Bucky’s hair as he leans over the table to peer at the iPad, sighing when he realizes it’s the interview he did that morning.

“Bucky, you shouldn’t watch these. They’re always terrible and no one ever asks me anything worthwhile anymore,” Steve grunts, reaching out to try and turn the iPad off, only to have it easily tugged out of his reach by a frowning Bucky.

“Why didn’t you tell them they were wrong to treat that girl so terribly? Even back in our day we knew to treat other people with more respect than that, no matter what they did to earn money,” Bucky asks in a quiet voice, his expression confused when Steve looks down at him. 

It’s way too late in the day to be having this conversation and Steve groans, rubbing his hand over his face as he turns away, making a bee line for the bedroom so he can change out of his dressy interview clothes. 

“We’ve gone over this, Buck. I’m not allowed to say or do anything that might get the rest of the group in trouble. The world thinks of me as some sort of leader of the Avengers, and the face of the American people. I can’t go spouting off all the things I really think and feel because I am, to quote Nick Fury, ‘an overflowing well of controversial ideas and thinly veiled sarcasm with a complete lack of concern for the sensitive, nervous nature of stupid people who happen to be in a position of power to make everyone’s lives miserable’,” Steve grumbles, struggling to undo the ridiculously tight knot some makeup artist had made in his tie. He sighs when Bucky’s hands are on his, stopping him before he gives up and just rips the entire thing off and lets them guide him to sit down on the edge of the bed, watching the former assassin as he patiently plucks at the blue silk.

“Did you tell him it will be far more controversial when the American people eventually find out about you and I?” Bucky asks quietly, and Steve can hear the faint, nervous edge to those words as Bucky slips the tie loose of his collar and starts to work on the buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. Steve reaches out to curl his arms around his waist and pulls him in until he settles on Steve’s lap, letting his fingers brush under the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt to find the warm skin hiding beneath it. 

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks about this, about _us._ The only opinions that are relevant are yours and mine, and the fact that there is a you and I, after everything, is the only thing that really matters to me,” Steve sighs, smiling softly as Bucky ghosts his mouth against his forehead, kissing away the lines that crease it like he always does when Steve gets stressed. 

Bucky is the best thing to ever happen to him and if it ever comes out that they’re in an intimate relationship then they’ll face that storm together, just like they always do. 

Steve takes his time undressing Bucky that night, pressing soft kisses to every inch of skin that’s exposed by his questing fingers. He makes him come undone with just his mouth, first, and kisses him for what feels like years afterwards, waiting for Bucky’s body to recover from the pleasure shivering through him. Steve likes kissing Bucky. He could spend the rest of his life chasing his tongue with his own, mapping every inch of his mouth with careful licks and nibbles. 

Bucky has been living with Steve for almost a year now, and in the months they’ve been intimate like this Steve can’t really remember a time where he couldn’t describe any of what they’ve done in bed as anything except making love. Steve doesn’t care to fuck him like they used to before the War, quick and dirty moments stolen in the dark while their neighbors were asleep. 

He wants to take his time with Bucky, now that there is time to be taken. He wants to relearn every inch of him, piece by piece, and memorize it. 

Bucky deserves to be treated with nothing short of gentle reverence, especially after everything he’s survived and overcome since he fell from that train in the frozen wasteland of Russia. Steve doesn’t want to rush it anymore.

When Bucky slides his fingers into Steve’s hair and tugs to let him know he’s ready for more, Steve buries himself between his spread thighs and sinks into him, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses against the curve of Bucky’s throat. Bucky’s fingers are in his hair, holding him close, and Steve sighs into the next kiss, slipping one arm around his waist even as his free hand gropes for one of Bucky’s, palms cradled together in a gentle show of affection. 

Bucky tastes of orange sauce and Steve smiles, a slow, easy curve of his lips against Bucky’s as he rolls their hips together, relishing in the tight, wet heat of Bucky’s body around him. It doesn’t take him long to come deep inside the pliant man beneath him, and he continues to rock himself into Bucky until he follows suit, spilling hot between their stomachs with a low, broken moan. 

They order pizza and eat it curled up, naked, in their bed, watching a movie on Steve’s laptop and trading easy, grease slick kisses. They make love once more that night in the shower, Steve spooned up against Bucky’s back and a hand around the other man’s cock as they slide and rock together under the hot spray of water. 

Bucky doesn’t have any nightmares that night and Steve takes comfort in watching the easy rise and fall of his chest before he lets sleep take him, as well, limbs tangled with Bucky’s and Dum Dum curled contently in the small crevice of space between their chests. 

When Steve wakes up the next morning all hell breaks loose.

\-------------------------

“What do you mean by ‘Tony’s in trouble’, Nat, because with Tony that could be any number of things,” Steve groans as Bucky moves around the kitchen making breakfast, clearly listening in on the conversation even as he whisks eggs in a bowl for omelets. 

Natasha sounds tired over the speaker when she answers, and what she has to say makes Steve want to go back to bed with Bucky and never come out from under the covers.

_“A sex tape, Rogers. Back in the day, Tony had sex with someone who filmed it, and that video was just released to every news station in New York. He says he didn’t even know the video existed until now, but it’s all anyone’s been talking about since the news went live last night. How did you not already see this?”_

Last night.

Steve remembers the slick press of fingers against his skin and Bucky’s tongue in his mouth.

“Yeah, I was a little, uh, busy last night, Nat. I… had practice with that barbershop quartet.”

Bucky snorts over the frying pan, almost dropping the omelet he’d been flipping. 

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” he chuckles, dodging the pineapple chunk that Steve sends sailing in his direction. It lands on the omelet, which is now definitely all Steve’s, and Bucky makes a face at the questionable combination of peppers, onions, and fruit. 

_“Whatever. We need you to come in so we can try to figure out damage control. You still have that interview with Fox News today and I bet you can guess what they’re going to want to talk to you about.”_

Steve’s face hardens and he has to set his fork down before he bends it with how tense he’s gotten. He knows what awaits him if he goes into Stark Tower, now, and it’s a whole lot of Nick Fury saying he needs to downplay this and cast the blame on youthful inhibition and apologize on Tony’s behalf for this shameful mistake.

“What does Tony have to say about all of this?” he asks instead of acknowledging her request, flashing Bucky a grateful smile at the omelet, bacon, and hash brown filled plate that’s placed in front of him. He’s going to need every ounce of energy and brain function he has to get through this day without screaming or picking a fight with a news anchor.

 _“He says the video was taken without his knowledge, and that it was just a onetime fling. He seems a bit shaken up about it, though, despite his usual bravado. I think he’s upset that something so… personal was released to the public,”_ Natasha says quietly, and Steve gets the feeling she's holding something back. He chews and swallows his massive mouthful of food and lets his eyes settle on Bucky, studying his face for any signs of distress. Bucky doesn’t like hearing about other people being hurt any more than Steve does, and since Bucky’s small world right now consists of Steve and the friends he’s made in the Avengers, he takes it doubly personal when one of them is in pain. 

“Nat? What is it you’re not telling me?” Steve asks in a low voice, and instantly wishes he hadn’t when she replies.

_“He’s with a man, in the video. Clearly his first time, too. Experimenting, trying to figure himself out. He says it’s an older friend from his years at MIT that he trusted, but then later had a falling out with before graduating. I guess this not so good friend has fallen on hard times and decided to sell the tape for some extra cash. Probably thought using it as blackmail like he originally intended was too risky and messy when Tony has the Avengers and Shield to back him up. Easier and cleaner just to sell the tape and be rid of it.”_

Steve wants to be sick and he sees the way Bucky’s gone white around his mouth, his flesh hand shaking against the table. Steve swallows down the anger welling up in his chest and lets it settle down into a low, steady burn of rage in the pit of his stomach, fueling him as he rapidly shovels his breakfast into his mouth. He barely even notices the pineapple chunk as it goes by. 

“I’ll figure out what I want to say, Nat. Tell Fury this one’s on me,” Steve grunts, standing up with his plate and dumping it into the sink with a loud clatter. Bucky’s hand is on his elbow and it’s a steadying weight, keeping him from picking the plate back up and throwing it across the room. 

_“I hope you know what you’re doing, Rogers,”_ Natasha says from the kitchen table. This time it’s Bucky who answers her, picking the phone up and hovering his thumb over the ‘end’ button.

“Steve never knows what he’s doing. He’s more of a ‘make it up as he goes along’ kind of guy, but that’s never steered us wrong yet. I think this is an interview everyone’s gonna want to see,” he hums, disconnecting the call and dropping the phone on the counter so he can turn to look at Steve again, sliding the cool metal of his fingers through his short blond hair.

“You gonna be okay today?” Bucky asks in a soft tone, relaxing a little when Steve smiles and leans in to press a kiss between his knitted eyebrows, hands resting on the narrow point of Bucky’s waist.

“Yeah, Buck. I think you’re right, this is definitely an interview everyone’s going to want to see.”

\----------------------------

Bucky isn’t at all impressed when Natasha shows up at his apartment with Sam, Tony, Bruce, Pepper, James Rhodes, and Clint in tow, folding his arms over his chest as they file into the living room and take over the couch. She shrugs and gestures at the wide screen television he and Steve have by way of explanation, breezing past him to go into the kitchen.

“Now you’re eating all my food,” he says incredulously, watching as she drops a couple bags of chips and the leftover fruit from breakfast onto the coffee table, heaving a sigh as the rest of the group descend upon it. He just got those chips yesterday. 

He’s glum when Clint finds the remote and turns the television on, instantly sitting up straighter at the image of Steve that pops up on the screen. He’s looking ready for a fight despite the crisp suit and tie he’s wearing, mouth set in a grim line and a faint muscle tic in his jaw. Bucky wonders what they said to him in the pre interview briefing to already having him visibly stewing in anger.

“So, Captain Rogers. I’m sure you’ve seen the story that came out last night about your fellow Avenger, Tony Stark. Would you care to comment on what happened? Has it caused any tension among the other members of the team?” the interviewer starts off, and Bucky decides he immediately does not like him. Steve doesn’t seem much endeared to him, either, and Bucky knows that Fox News is Steve’s least favorite news station. They always ask all the wrong questions, he says.

Bucky casts a glance at the odd bunch of people sitting in the room with him and privately wonders if the newscaster has a clue about how a group like the Avengers even functions. Apparently Steve agrees because he gives the man a smile that shows way too many teeth, his hands folded on his lap no doubt to hide the way they’re shaking with quiet anger.

“We’d be a pretty sad excuse for a team if something like this would be capable of causing a divide,” he replies, making Bucky grin. If Steve’s sharp tongue doesn’t draw blood by the end of the night then Bucky’s a purple spotted hyena. 

“Still, it must be shocking to find out someone you trust to have your back in a fight is homosexual. Are there any plans to remove Mister Stark from the team for this disgusting display of indecency?”

The apartment is dead silent and Bucky chances a quick look at the couch where Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey have somehow managed to sandwich Tony in between them without him really noticing. He looks green around the mouth and his face is pinched with dismay, the hand clutched in Pepper’s shaking more than just a little. Rhodey rests a sympathetic hand on his knee and Clint gives him a small smile from where he’s sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the couch, holding the bag of Doritos up as a peace offering.

Tony takes it with a grateful look and shovels an entire handful in his mouth. All eyes return to the screen and wait for Steve to reply, watching as his expression goes from offended to enraged to complete dead stillness in a matter of seconds, much to the obvious discomfort of the Fox News reporter opposite him. 

Bucky smirks and leans back in his chair with a contemplative noise, metal fingers tapping out a quick beat on the armrest.

“Don’t worry, Stark. Steve’s gonna make them pay for it.”

Steve is a beautiful thing to behold when he goes into righteous, avenging angel mode. Bucky knows from firsthand experience and this time is no exception.

“The only thing I find disgusting and indecent, here, is the reaction of the media to this offensive invasion of privacy. This video was filmed without Tony’s consent or knowledge, and then released by a man he once trusted and cared for. I didn’t fight and die for a country that thrives off the public shaming of a person just for having sex,” Steve says bluntly, his voice so still and even that Bucky wonders if the newscaster has pissed his pants yet. He hears a pained noise from Tony but doesn’t look away from Steve just yet, unable to tear his gaze from the cold steel in his eyes.

“Tony Stark is a human being and the only mistake he made in this case is trusting that piece of garbage with something as important as his first time with another man. So, to answer your question, sir, no, Tony Stark is not being removed from the Avengers. Furthermore, having sex with another man does not make him homosexual. As far as I’m aware, Tony identifies as heterosexual. He’s not the only member of the team to have been involved with the same sex, either, and who he has sex with has no bearing on his ability to fight with us or protect the people of this country. The fact that this video was taken without his consent is tantamount to an act of sexual violence, in my opinion, and the man who filmed it should pray that Tony doesn’t decide to press charges for this gross violation of his privacy.”

The Fox News interviewer is spluttering incoherently, now, clearly trying to take back control of the interview but struggling to find the words to do so. Bucky can’t blame him. He wouldn’t be able to speak either if Steve was looking at him like that, though he doubts the newscaster is feeling quite the same belly aching urge to fuck Steve into next week. 

“What is that supposed to mean? Other members of the Avengers are homosexual? This is an outrage, you’re supposed to protect the American people!” the interviewer finally protests and Bucky almost doubles over in silent laughter, slapping his hand against the armrest of his chair and debating who's going to throw the first punch in the news station. 

“Oh that is such a terrible, terrible thing to say to Steven Rogers,” Bucky sighs, tipping his head to the side, gaze smoldering, as he watches Steve’s face twist into a feral smile. Bucky has never been this attracted to him in his entire life.

“And you’re saying that we’re somehow less qualified to defend you if some of us are queer? Because I’ve been protecting this country and its people since before you were born, son, and being queer never stopped me.”

There’s dead silence in the news station after that announcement and Steve looks smug as a pig in shit on the screen, his arms folded across his chest and chin jutting out defiantly. The news caster is staring at him with an open mouthed, dumbfounded look on his face, and Bucky can almost hear the sound of the internet roaring into pandemonium.

“I think this is my favorite interview to date,” Bucky tells the star struck group of people on the couch beside him, reaching out to snag the bag of pretzel rods and popping one in his mouth, “Fury should have let him loose a long time ago.”

Clint points his finger at the television with his mouth still hanging open, eyes wide and hand cupped against his ear to make sure his hearing aid isn’t malfunctioning because he definitely did not just hear Captain America out himself in front of the entire universe. 

“Has he always been like this?” Rhodey asks, clearly flabbergasted at the juxtaposition between the smirking man on the screen and the reserved Steve Rogers he’s met a few times at Stark Tower. 

Bucky shrugs and licks the salt off the pretzel rod in his mouth, neatly folding one long leg over the other one.

“Let’s just say he’s been a punk ass, sarcastic, stubborn little shithead as long as I’ve known him and leave it at that. He’s not done yet, though. He’s only just getting started.”

All eyes swing from him back to the screen in time to see Steve mirror Bucky’s current pose, one leg crossed over the other and his arms folded against his chest, eyes hard as they stare down the man opposite him.

“And while we’re here, let me clear up a few things so you can stop asking me my opinion on them every time I sit in this chair. Yes, I support equal rights for women. No, I don’t think abortion should be illegal and I firmly believe it’s none of mine or anyone else’s damn business what a woman does with her own body. I believe gay marriage should be legal everywhere in the world and that queer people deserve all the same rights and protections as every other human being in this country. And no, I am not shocked that a black man was elected president. Sorry if you find it disappointing that I’m not as narrow minded and lost in the dark ages as you wish I was.”

The newscaster looks ready to either run away or throw up as he scoots his chair back from Steve, his face white as a sheet save the twin red spots of embarrassment sitting high on his cheeks.

“You are supposed to represent America and the American people! Captain America can’t be some feminazi faggot!”

There’s a scuffle from off screen and two men come up behind the interviewer, who has clearly lost his composure and is gesticulating wildly at Steve, to try and drag him off the stage. Steve on the other hand is the picture of calm contentment, as if finally getting to say all the things he’s been holding in all this time is massive a weight off his shoulders. 

“Well, since I’m Captain America, I think I’m the one that gets to decide if I want to be a feminist and a queer. For the record, though, while I happen to be dating a man at the moment, I actually identify as bisexual.”

Steve gives that wolfish smile once more and stands up, clearly done with the interview now that he’s said his piece. 

“I won’t be returning to this news station for an interview… ever. Oh, and your catering is terrible.”

Bucky tips his head back against his armchair and contemplates the screen as Steve storms off it, his eyes hooded and his fingers still drumming against the floral fabric of the armrest. He can feel everyone else’s eyes on him in the aftermath of Typhoon Rogers, looking for answers, and Bucky shrugs, lifting his hand up so he can inspect his nails. 

“You have about ten minutes to say whatever it is you have to say to Steve when he gets home. After that he belongs to me for at least twelve hours before you’re allowed to call us and nobody better let Nick Fury anywhere near this apartment. Any questions?” he hums, peering over his fingers to make sure every single person in the room understands what he just said. 

Clint raises his hand and then lowers it again, eyes wide and hair mussed from Natasha absently petting it during the interview, since Dum Dum has taken to hiding in the bathroom when she comes over.

“Yes, just one. More of a comment, really, than a question, but - _holy shit,_ ” Clint blurts out, leaning back heavily against the couch behind him. Bucky snorts and stands up, tying his hair back in a loose ponytail on his way to the kitchen. Steve is going to be hungry enough to eat the world when he gets home and Bucky wants to minimize the amount of time between Steve’s return and sex as much as he can. 

“He’s always been like that. Let me tell you all the fights he used to get into, even when he was only ninety pounds soaking wet, all because he can’t stand bullies treating other people poorly just for existing,” Bucky explains, amused by the way the group follows him like ducklings into the kitchen and fall heavily into seats around the table, still trying to digest the new things they learned about their friend.

Tony’s looking a lot better though, smiling, even, as Pepper rests a hand on the back of his on the table, relief etched into every fiber of his being. Bucky studies him for a long moment before he takes one of Steve’s beers from the fridge and sets it on the table in front of Tony, popping the top off with a flick of a metal finger.

“Here. You’ve earned one.”

Tony blinks up at him for a moment before accepting it with a short nod, relaxing after a few deep swallows. Beer isn’t really Bucky’s thing but Steve seems to like it and Tony is certainly appreciating the one he’s tucking into right now so Bucky files that knowledge away for future reference. 

He leaves the group to their discussions as he turns the stove on and starts cutting chicken and vegetables for an easy stir fry, glad for the chance to get lost in the mindless rhythm of chopping and mixing. Bucky likes cooking. He likes the distraction of it and the chance to create something with the prosthetic arm, rather than destroy with it. They never had the money to do much cooking before the War, and it’s a luxury that Bucky’s going to take. Much like how Steve enjoys being able to provide a good place for them to live, Bucky enjoys the chance to take care of Steve the way he never could during the Depression. 

The door to the apartment swings open and Steve barely makes it through the archway before the entire group descends upon him with a clamor, leaving Bucky to finish dinner in relative peace and quiet. By the time Steve answers their questions and accepts their hugs and words of support and gratitude Bucky has two plates of stir fry and another beer on the table, grinning a little at the look of relief he gets when Steve enters the kitchen. The apartment feels quiet and empty with their friends gone but Bucky welcomes it as he waits for Steve to shrug off his coat and join him at the table, the expression on his face frozen with amusement.

“So, you put on quite the show this afternoon. You know this means it won’t be long until they find out about this mysterious man you told them all you’re dating,” Bucky murmurs, resting a bare foot on Steve’s thigh as the blond digs into the hot stir fry with gusto, hardly pausing to breathe between giant bites. He swallows, with some difficulty, and has the presence of mind to look a little embarrassed, at least, resting a hand on Bucky’s ankle and rubbing it absently.

“I just couldn’t sit there and listen to them treat Tony like that, anymore. He may be a bastard sometimes, and sure, back in the day he was a huge playboy and a jerk, but, he’s still my friend and a human being. He doesn’t deserve to have people sneering down their nose at him just because he trusted the wrong person. I suppose I felt like if I gave the world a bigger story than his sex tape, they’d leave him alone.”

Bucky sighs as Steve’s fingers knead at his calf muscles, taking a bite from his own plate of stir fry and chewing thoughtfully before making a note to add more soy sauce next time, spinning the chopsticks idly in his hand.

“Well, you certainly succeeded, but, I think we’ll be okay. America’s fusty old white guys might shun you, but America’s youth is certainly going to be impressed. You’re giving them a face, and a voice. Someone they can see and look up to. They’ll grow up knowing that if Captain America is queer, then maybe it’s okay for them to be queer, too,” Bucky soothes, sliding across the distance between them to settle on Steve’s lap facing him, arms circling around his neck. 

“You made the right call today. Tony appreciated what you did more than he’ll ever admit, and we’ll face whatever fallout comes our way like we always do. You proved that you’re every inch the hero you’ve always been and every queer kid who has ever been bullied or put down or made to feel like less of a person because they’re queer is gonna go to school tomorrow and be able to say, ‘it’s okay that I’m different, because Captain America is different, too.’”

Steve leans forward to press their foreheads together and sighs, eyes falling shut at the calming brush of cool metal fingers through his hair. 

“Thanks, Buck. I think.. There’s something I need to do tomorrow. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, but, I’d appreciate the company,” Steve whispers, and Bucky knows what he’s referring to without even needing to ask. 

“The Cindy Labelle trial. Tomorrow is the last day before the Jury makes their decision,” Bucky hums thoughtfully, rubbing his fingers in a soothing circle at the back of Steve’s neck. Steve nods, his arms wrapped tight around Bucky’s waist, hands already ghosting up under the red and black t-shirt Bucky’s wearing to seek out the warm skin beneath it.

“I just… Need to make things right. For being silent so long, when I could have been a voice for her, and people like her, trying to take a stand against the ones who hurt them. I never got that chance, Buck, when it happened to me. I was too afraid and you know exactly what would have happened if I reported it. But I can make a difference, now. I’m not afraid anymore.”

Bucky brushes his lips against the lines creasing Steve’s forehead and lets the other man pull him closer until they’re pressing flush together, trailing butterfly kisses down his cheek and up the curve of his ear.

“I’ll come. I promised you then that I would stand beside you, no matter what choice you made, and that’s not about to change now,” he promises with every kiss, tucking his face into the crook of Steve’s neck to worship the tan skin with lips and tongue, hand cradling the back of his skull.

Bucky remembers that night with painful clarity. Steve stumbling into their apartment long after he’s due home, soaked to the skin and bruised all over, the seat of his pants torn and bloodstained. Bucky never knew that the extra money Steve brought home came from offering blowjobs to the men down at the docks until that moment. It isn’t uncommon back in those days for women or for sweet young men like Steve to sell those kinds of favors. With his big eyes and narrow shoulders Steve must have been hard to resist. 

But then one doesn’t want to just stop there and takes what he wants from Steve, who isn’t strong enough to fight him off.

Bucky’s crying when he climbs into the bath with Steve and helps him scrub the abuse and violence from his skin, trying to chase away the memories of it with gentle kisses like the ones he’s leaving on Steve’s throat right now. They can’t report it to the police, and Steve is ashamed enough about what has happened without having to explain it to anyone else.

Steve blames himself for what happened back then. It takes a very, very long time for Bucky to convince him that it isn’t his fault, and that he hasn’t done anything to deserve the things that man did to him.

He goes to the docks three days later and finds the guy Steve had described, beating him so badly he ends up in the hospital, half dead and missing most of his teeth. If Steve ever finds out then he never says a single word about it. 

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth, sighing when the other man turns his head just enough to capture him in a proper kiss, fingers threading into Bucky’s dark brown curls and pulling them loose from the hair tie.

“I love you, Stevie. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and tomorrow you’re gonna show that to the whole world. I’ve never been so proud of you in my entire life,” he whispers, tightening his legs around Steve’s waist when the man stands up and makes his way towards their bedroom, the remains of the stir fry long since forgotten on the table.

Even in the darkness of the hallway Bucky can see the flicker of vulnerable uncertainty on Steve’s face.

“You mean that, Buck?”

Bucky smiles and waits until Steve lays him out on their bed before he answers, pulling Steve down on top of him so he can whisper the answer against his lips.

“Always, Stevie.”

They take their time undressing and spend most of an hour just kissing, curled up on their sides with fingers in each other’s hair. Bucky’s the first one to let his kissing drift away from Steve’s mouth and he loses all concept of an outside world as he trails wet, lingering kisses over smooth muscle and soft skin, fingers trailing in his wake. 

He opens Steve up with gentle touches and plenty of slick, uncaring of the mess it leaves on their bed as he slides his fingers into the other man. Bucky makes Steve come just from the slippery press of digits against his prostate, watching the way his face twists in pleasure. Steve’s too tired after that to reciprocate, but, Bucky doesn’t mind taking care of himself with a few quick, steady strokes of his hand while they trade lazy, sloppy kisses.

Bucky cleans them both up with a damp towel and slides under the covers to spoon up against Steve, an arm tossed over his waist and his nose tucked against the back of his neck. Steve’s already out cold and Bucky’s relieved he’s able to sleep so easily with the next day looming before them. 

He has a feeling that many people have already figured out which member of the Avengers Steve is dating. It’s a scandal and a half when Tony Stark announces that Bucky Barnes has been found frozen in the ice, as well, and will be joining the Avengers. Rumors of him being the mysterious Winter Soldier are squashed thanks to Stark’s infinite wealth and resources, with help from the recovering Shield. He’s been fighting alongside Steve whenever he can ever since, and it will be of little surprise to anyone who doesn’t immediately condemn them that the man Steve is dating is none other than James Barnes. 

Bucky closes his eyes and exhales softly against Steve's skin, trying to settle himself down so he can at least get some sleep.

Tomorrow is going to be a very, very long day, the first of many that are definitely headed their way.

\-------------------------

“How do women wear these all the time? I had a lady power walk past me wearing one of these yesterday, like she was in runnin’ shoes or something, and yet here I am wobbling along like a newborn colt,” Sam whines, wincing as the bright red shoes dig uncomfortably into the back of his heels. 

Steve smiles at him and reaches out to squeeze his shoulder, affection in his gaze as he waits for the start of the Walk to be announced.

There are flashbulbs from cameras going off everywhere and he’s not surprised when a young reporter cuts through the crowd to talk with him, her eyes bright and microphone out as the camera man behind her swoops into position.

“Captain Rogers, hi, can you tell us why you’re here today with The Falcon to participate in this year’s Walk A Mile in Her Shoes campaign?” she asks, clearly awestruck to get the chance to interview two of the Avengers this morning. 

Steve ducks his head for a moment to gather his thoughts before slotting his hands on his hips and looking up at the camera, a small grin quirking at the corner of his lips.

“Because I think it’s important for the survivors of sexual abuse and violence to know they’re not alone in this fight, and that they don’t have to live in fear, anymore. What happened to them isn’t their fault and we’re here to make sure that everyone knows that,” Steve says firmly, folding his arms over his chest. The news reporter nods and offers him a smile, making a quick notation in her notebook before continuing.

“Do you think the way people view you has changed in the recent months? First you admit to being bisexual, and a supporter of women’s equality and gay rights, and then the next day you make an appearance at the Cindy Labelle trial with James Barnes of the Avengers, later revealed to be your longtime partner, and speak openly in support of her and her case. Some say that seeing Captain America admit to prostitution, and to being the victim of a sexual assault himself, is what changed the tide in the case and resulted in the conviction of Doctor Sanderson. Hearing you tell your story of how you were forced to make that choice, or else starve, hit home for a lot of people in similar situations.”

Steve purses his lips and nods, running his hand through his hair as he remembers that terrifying moment in front of dozens of cameras, when he wonders if he’s making the right call.

Bucky is there, like he always is, and his hand slipping into Steve’s is what gives him the courage to tell them everything. 

“I think a lot of people view me in a lot of different ways, now. Tony’s mail sorters have been inundated with letters from all kinds of people who want to give me a piece of their mind. I’ve gotten plenty of hate mail, that’s for sure, but, it’s worth the thousands of letters I’ve received from people of all ages and walks of life saying I became a hero to them that day. Women, and men, who were afraid to admit they were raped by someone close to them saying that my story gave them the strength to finally ask for help. Kids who were terrified that their friends or family would judge them for being gay taking a chance and coming out. Even if I only changed one person’s life by telling my story then it’s worth it to me to have told it,” Steve announces, looking away from the camera for a moment at the throng of people around him. When the news gets out that he’s going to be at the event, the attendance numbers nearly triple overnight. If Captain America is going to walk a mile in her shoes, then, maybe it’s time for everyone else to start taking a stand, too.

“Cindy’s a smart girl who fell on hard times, just like many of us do. She has a job in Stark Industries, now, as an assistant to Miss Pepper Potts, and her daughter is getting the proper medical treatment she needs. It just goes to show you that anyone can be forced to make a tough call like that when it’s for someone they love, whether it’s a Mom trying to take care of her daughter, or a skinny little asthmatic from Brooklyn in love with a boy who starves himself just to put a roof over their heads.”

A couple chuckles and sniffles from the group that’s congregated around them, now, and Steve tries not to blush at the knowing look the interviewer gives him, now.

“And where is Mister Barnes? Is he going to be joining you today on your walk?”

Before Steve can open his mouth to reply there’s a small, dry cough from behind him, sending Steve’s gaze, and the camera, turning towards the sound. Bucky’s standing there with a grin on his face and three inch purple high heels on his feet, flanked on either side by Natasha, Tony, Clint, Thor, and Bruce, all wearing their own towering heels in a variety of bright, neon colors. The cameras go wild at the sight of the Avengers standing there, and Steve tries not to let his eyes water up as Bucky moves closer and slips his hands into Steve’s, his eyes crinkling with affection. 

“Of course I’m joining him. There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be,” Bucky murmurs, a smile on his face reserved just for Steve. 

“We’re all here for you, Stevie.”

Bucky presses a kiss to his cheek and pulls back so he can stand beside Steve and ready himself for the announcement of the start of the Walk, grinning when the rest of the Avengers fall in line on either side of them and link their hands as well.

Steve’s trying his best not to cry, lower lip quivering ever so slightly as the people at the front of the crowd start to walk forward, many wobbling and stumbling but always picking themselves, and each other, back up to keep walking. Bucky thinks it’s a good metaphor for the struggles survivors themselves face when trying to put themselves back together after what they’ve been through. 

“You pick yourself back up and you keep moving forward, no matter how many times you fall down along the way. And if you can’t do it yourself then you find someone who can help you find your footing again,” Bucky murmurs, pulling Steve’s hand up and pressing his lips to the back of it, shooting him a look full of warmth and love. Steve is always there to pick Bucky up every time he falls down after escaping Hydra. Now it’s time for Bucky to show Steve he can do the same for him.

Steve smiles softly and turns his head to look forward, taking a deep breath and holding it for several long seconds before letting it escape him in a slow, even exhale.

Bucky’s metal hand is warm in one hand, and Sam’s is clasped tight in the other, squeezing gently around Steve’s when he chances a glance sideways at his best friend. It turns out Sam knows a guy who is good at working with male victims of sexual assault, particularly soldiers, and Steve has started seeing him once a week to talk about what had happened.

“On my left?” he asks softly, and Sam grins at him, slow and easy, nudging Steve’s shoulder with his own as the people in front of them start to move.

“You know it, partner.”

Steve sucks in another deep breath and closes his eyes, focusing only on the warmth of Sam and Bucky against his sides and not on the pounding of his heart in his chest. Steve Rogers is more than just a rape survivor, and he’s not just a feminist, or bisexual. Steve Rogers is all those things and more. Steve Rogers is Captain America and with his closest friends holding him up on either side, Steve feels like he can do just about anything.

So he takes the first step.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheesy happy ending because that's what I'm about.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [samwilson!](https://samwilson.tumblr.com)


End file.
